


Still Breathing in the Ashes

by CorgisAreMySoul



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga), Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: AU, Abduction, Change of Fate, Character Death, Different Kira, Experimentation, Ghoul Abduction, Ghoul Light, Kidnapping, Light is not Kira, Non-Kira Light, OOC-Light, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Sorry Not Sorry, and I won't blame you, everyone is like 10 years younger cause of timeline, like at all, probably gonna be your favorite angsty ghoul, you're gonna hate me for cliffhangers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorgisAreMySoul/pseuds/CorgisAreMySoul
Summary: Time was turned, thousands of heart attacks reversed. The dead were brought to life. Light Yagami, however, still became a murderer. A killer out of pure necessity; A ghoul. While adjusting to his new life after an ungodly experiment, Light must face against an unorthodox Kira and risk revealing his horrific true nature.





	1. Ennui

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but the plot of my story. Rights go to creator of the manga. Commence story!

 

_ Words _ = Normal dialogue or narration with emphasis

* * *

 

**_When you pay attention to boredom it gets unbelievably interesting._ **

**_~Jon Kabat-Zinn_ **

* * *

 

The barren landscape of the shinigami realm was rather unpleasing to the average person's eye. It was even more unpleasant to the shinigami who have inhabited it for over ten-thousand years. The ashy gray sand that spanned across the lands was coarse and dry, adding another dimension of dullness to the already repulsive scenery.

The Shinigami King had seen it all, stories that repeated all too often for the immortal being. He'd had his share of interesting humans to watch, all of which met the same dark fate as their predecessors. At this point, these humans should have seemed unimportant to him; too repetitive and uninteresting to watch for any longer. Yet, he'd found some solace in watching their perpetual fall from grace, enjoying every second as they dug their metaphorical graves deeper and deeper.

He was particularly drawn in by the personalities of each human.

He'd seen evil-doers, martyrs, religious figures, and even regular, normal people get driven mad with power by the shinigami's primary tool. It was rather unimpressive how easily the human psyche could be influenced by a simple black notebook. The ability to kill was nothing special, every human had the potential to kill. Even without a shinigami's notebook, life could be taken away with the use of one's own two hands.

It wasn't difficult to kill. This was obvious to the King, but humans truly believed there was something more to it. Something other than just stabbing another being until their life abruptly ended.

Something other than just grabbing one's throat and holding it firmly until their heart stopped pumping.

Something other than just pulling a trigger and waiting for the target's blood to stop pooling out of their warm bodies.

There was nothing truly special about killing. It was just accelerating the process of living, to the point where it ended almost way too fast.

Humans who stumbled upon Death Notes seemed to understand this feeling of murderous joy. They'd killed to the point where they numbed themselves from human emotion, slowly poisoning the people that surrounded them. They had slowly corrupted themselves over their killing spree, losing sight of their goals in life and replacing them with values most humans would deem cruel and unusual.

The King's favorite human of the many hundreds cursed with the shinigami's killing weapon was Light Yagami.

The young man was the most recognizable face to all shinigami of the King's realm, his popularity among them kindled by Ryuk's unintentional pick of a madman. He was insane, but likable. Most importantly, he was entertaining. He had the longest run among all humans with a Death Note by far.

The best thing about the man with a god-complex was his radical ideology. Yagami truly believed himself to be a god among men, purifying the world by ridding it of criminals of all kinds. He could simply be described as an egotistical bastard that thought himself the king of the Earth itself. That was probably why he was so amusing to watch in the first place.

The King prided himself with a personal vision orb, a device that could display the ongoings of the human world and its neighbors. There were many of these magical devices scattered throughout the shinigami realm, but the King's trumped them in importance. It was like having his own personal television in which he could watch human suffering commence.

It was this orb he used to watch Light Yagami and other vile humans.

Oddly enough, the King grew attached to Yagami as he continued to spectate. He'd started to laugh when Light's utter derangement kicked in, basking himself in the absolute pleasure that he received from watching something so positively humorous and amusing. The King even began to support the young man's cause, squirming in delight whenever another triumph was made. This is by far what made this specific human so entertaining.

But, as every law of nature dictates, good things do not last.

Yagami passed after a few years, pathetically shot to the brink of howling madly and then given release from his bloody suffering by Ryuk. As tradition with every shinigami that drops a notebook, whether by accident or on purpose, the King banished Ryuk to the edges of the shinigami realm, leaving him to suffer and wait on that lonesome mountain of his. The King of Death actually wanted to keep Ryuk as a small pet, a clown for his own personal entertainment. That would have also sufficed as a decent punishment, embarrassing the tired shinigami one clumsy joke after another.

Most importantly, the Shinigami King wanted his favorite form of entertainment to bring back laughter and to return enjoyment to his soul. After all, it was rather uninteresting just 'hanging' around on his throne. It's only been a year and he was already itching for some excitement.

How he wished another shinigami would drop their notebook into the human world.

Alas, everyone was too shaken from the previous events. Not only that, but Ryuk's punishment served as the last straw for many of the daredevil death gods. Nobody was willing to experiment with the human world for a long time to come, so all the freakish deities just sat around and gambled with one another.

He wanted to watch his favorite show again, he wanted to be delighted by his favorite human again. He wanted to peel off this layer of boredom clouding his thoughts.

A freakish smile crossed the King's amorphous face. His shackles that bound him to the ceiling were shaking with vigor, his shapeless body fighting against the pull of his chains. The Shinigami King was featureless, bodiless and yet, he remained conscious of the world around him.

_ It was time to change things. _

As king of the death gods, the Shinigami King held an authoritative position over the functions of the universe.

He was the one true god of this world, and he was going to use that position to get what he wanted. So it began.

Tremors shook the world of the shinigami, the gods of death panicking over the sudden quakes that disheveled the dunes of gray sand. Some were buried underneath the colorless particles while others barely escaped entombment with the use of their hideous wings.

On the edge of his mountainous cavern, Ryuk took notice of these intense shudders that knocked over nearby pebbles and caused some stalagmites to drop.

"Hyuk," he chuckled quietly, talking to nobody in particular, "It seems like you were bored too."

He stood up and stretched his gruesomely hunched back, walking over to the outcrop of rock that jutted out of the mountain's cave.

"I suppose I'm in for a ride," Ryuk commented, "Hopefully it'll be more interesting than last time."

The shinigami continued to watch the chaos occurring underneath him, sand collapsing continuously and shinigami shrieking their heads off about their fallen comrades as well as their own threatened wellbeing.

Crackling thunder began to permeate the sky, drowning out all the darkness that previously inhabited the dull atmosphere. Hues of blue and red consumed the sky as the severe lightning continued to strike in the atmosphere. The quakes only intensified as time inched forward, slowly causing more and more debris to break and fall over.

It was as if the world was ending. And just like that...

Everything faded to black.

* * *

 

The King of Death was the first to wake from this dimensional-shift.

Air seethed through his permanently gritted teeth, hissing a sound that remotely resembled laughter. His wishes had come true, the universe had bent to his will.

It was the year 2006, and everything had gone according to his makeshift plan. Now what to do...

Frankly, the King hadn't thought that far ahead. He was simply pressing rewind on the proverbial remote control. Of course, it wouldn't be particularly interesting to just sit and watch the same show all over again. No, he needed to make it a little more interesting. He needed to change something.

He began to deeply ponder his choices when he was suddenly interrupted by the gold-clad Armonia Justin Beyondormason, his right-hand shinigami.

"Sire?" Justin questioned coldly, not seeming all that concerned, "Is everything alright?"

The Shinigami King merely stared in Armonia Justin's direction and that sent the signal.

_ Stop bothering me. Now. _

Beyondormason rushed out of the room, dropping a few precious gems from his body on his way out. The gems were a certain familiar shade of yellow...

The King chuckled at subordinate's uneasiness in his presence. It was rather fulfilling to scare them shitless and watch them run around like headless chickens in the aftermath of his appearance.

It was back to pondering. The King did not know nor care how long he sat on his throne, thinking about how to play with his toys in a different manner.

Finally, a devious smile crossed the King of Death's face.

It was too easy. Almost  _ boringly _ easy. Yet...

The chaos would begin that very tumultuous day.


	2. His Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Own nothing but plot, rights go to creator. Commence chapter!

_**Boredom, anger, sadness, or fear are not 'yours,' not personal. They are conditions of the human mind. They come and go. Nothing that comes and goes is you.** _

_**~Eckhart Tolle** _

* * *

A stale, droning voice filled the room, pointless words echoing throughout the diminutive classroom.

Teacher spoke, yet he did not listen. There was no need to pay heed, to waste his precious time to hear the babbling fool.

He knew it all. Every single word spoken by the teacher.

It was because he'd read the textbooks more than once, he'd researched more than once, he'd  _heard_  this more than once.

With every second, he'd felt as if he were sinking deeper and deeper into his own little world, reality slowly becoming numb to his acute senses.

It was only a small black speck in the corner of his vision that brought him back to reality.

Light Yagami blinked a few times, just to let the real world set in. He turned his head to the side, looking for the tiny object that had pulled him out of his weary trance.

Mere milliseconds of searching and he finally found the item-of-desire. It looked like a book. A plain black book that was falling from the sky.

How peculiar.

He leaned over a bit to see the dark book that had abruptly fallen, not caring about the odd stares that came his way. Public opinion? He could care less, it wasn't like their beliefs about him mattered. In fact, it was probably for the best if he stayed unknown by others.

There would be less  _annoyances_  to deal with.

"Yagami," a voice called. He ignored it, instead trying to get a better view of the book.

The book landed in the courtyard of his school, going completely unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the room. His staring continued.

"Yagami," the voice commanded, even more stern than before.

He reluctantly pried his eyes away from the interesting item and made eye contact with the teacher. The source of the voice.

"Please read this section of the textbook that I've written on the board," the teacher said inattentively, not caring much that Light wasn't even paying attention to his lecture beforehand. Even the professor of the foreign language class was uninterested by the topic at hand.

"Yes sir."

Light stood up and began reciting the English scripture from the textbook with flawless accuracy. Even though he was focused on reading, he couldn't help but think of the odd phenomenon that had occurred only minutes before. It stuck in the back of his mind like glue.

Maybe after class. The thought lingered for the remainder of the lesson.

* * *

It didn't take long for the bell to ring, thus dismissing Light from his classes for the day.

Although he seemed like an intellectual person, Light was actually  _glad_  that he was on his way home. Even though he was renowned for having perfect scores and being a model student, the point of school was lost on him. The fact that he could learn everything he needed to from textbooks alone lead him to believe that the institution itself was unnecessary. A waste of time if anything.

An internal feeling of longing resounded through his body. Only a few hours of cram school and he wouldn't have to sit through a teacher's lecture for the rest of the weekend.

He made a beeline straight towards the courtyard, making sure to not bump into the rambunctious teenagers that he hated to call his peers. Finally, out of the stuffy building, his eyes zeroed in on the book from earlier.

Light walked towards the black book, ignoring the giggling teenage girls that were gawking at him. Once he was towering over the odd notebook, he bent over and picked it up, overlooking the fact that the previous girls were still staring at him intently.

He took a quick glance around and then focused his attention on the black hard-cover notebook. He quickly brushed off some dirt and grass that had managed to cling to the leather cover, despite the jejune texture of the book.

The title read "Death Note" in silver lettering that greatly contrasted the ebony black cover.

He looked up from the notebook and gave another look-around, making sure that nobody was suspicious of his peculiar actions. Quickly opening it, he was met with the inner cover, which was titled "Death Note: How To Use It" in the same odd font as earlier, and pages upon pages of blank lined paper.

His attention drifting back to the cover, he read the very first bullet on the leather-bound page. The further he read into the page, the more skeptical he became of the legitimacy of the book itself.

After reading through the instructions, he decided to place the book back down onto the ground. It was a prank, he was sure of it.

Yet, he was oddly tempted to bring the object with him.

There was a chance, a small chance, that this was real.

And he wasn't ready to let one of his irresponsible peers have it.

Light subtly slid the book into his messenger bag, making sure to shut the latch on top after. Whatever this was, whether it was a harmless joke or the tool that would end the world, he had to investigate. It wasn't a choice.

It was simply his nature.

* * *

The door to the Yagami household closed quietly, accompanied by hurried footsteps up the stairs and to the second floor.

Light wasn't willing to make small talk with his mother, even if it was  _necessary_  for keeping a normal house life. He had one, and only one, priority: to figure out whether or not this book was actually what it claimed to be.

Once he met with his bedroom door, he took out the long stick of pencil lead that was between the door and the doorframe, lying snugly on the hinge of the door, and hastily entered the room. He immediately fished through his bag and pulled out the dark notebook, clutching it tightly as if it were about to float away.

He then threw his messenger bag onto his bed and moved towards the desk in the corner of his bland, grey-ish room. He sat down with vigor and set the notebook on the desk, directly facing him. For a while, he just stared at the object. Waiting as if it would suddenly do something unexpected.

Nothing happened.

Impatience mustering up inside him, Light carefully prodded the notebook with his index finger, expecting the item to perhaps make a sound or pop out confetti.

Anything to make it  _seem_  like a harmless prank.

Yet, nothing happened.

He exhaled deeply and finally gave up on trying to get a response from the supposed "Death Note". Instead, he yanked open the drawer built into his desk and stuffed the black book into it.

Trying to keep his mind off of the discarded book, Light flicked the ON button for his television and was immediately greeted with an anxious and frightened voice.

He turned up the volume.

A harried reporter screamed into the microphone, "The same assailant who attacked six people at a busy shopping district in Shinjuku yesterday has struck again, taking eight people hostage at this daycare center! His captives include both... children and teachers. The police have now identified the suspect as forty-two-year-old Kurou Otoharada. We expect negotiations to begin immediately for the eight hostages!"

It was a pity. A frown adorned Light's normally neutral expression. His eyes met with those of the criminal being shown on screen and down to the drawer in which he had shut the odd book. He simply stared at the handle of the drawer, his inner conscious clashing between the choice of opening it or not.

He suddenly opened the drawers, seized the notebook, slapped it onto the desk, and grabbed a pen from the pencil holder on the desk. He quickly flipped open the cover and put the tip of the pen on the paper.

If the notebook was actually candid with its nature, then the criminal would die within 40 seconds of him writing the name down. If the man dies, the hostages inside the building  _will_  be safe. If the notebook isn't real, then nothing will happen and Light would be absolutely  _sure_  that he could dispose of it without worrying about who may find it.

Either way, someone would benefit from the end product of this experiment.

Light wrote the man's name, being absolutely sure to stare at the man's face between each stroke of kanji. After embellishing the last stroke, he placed the pen back onto the desk and sat back in his chair, watching the screen with intent.

Only 40 seconds until something would happen, or not.

Light was certain that nothing would happen. He continued to watch with a smirk on his face.

The seconds ticked by, each one seeming longer and longer as the moment of truth marched closer. After 40 seconds passed, the reporter continued to keep the audience updated about the situation at hand, mostly rehashing the information he had given earlier in different ways. Light's smirk grew only larger.

He had  _known_ that it wouldn't work. After all, he had  _never_  been wrong before.

Why would he be now?

Suddenly the man on screen stopped speaking, his hand placed securely behind his ear. He spoke only a few works while a small crowd of people suddenly started to bustle out of the daycare center's front doors.

Light's smirk faded, instead replaced by a horrified expression and an equally terrified gleam in his eyes.

Kurou Otoharada, an assaulter and hostage-taker, perished from a heart attack, only 40 seconds after his name was written in the corrupt notebook.


	3. The Greatest Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Own nothing but plot. Rights go to respective mangaka. Commence chapter!

_Words_  = Normal dialogue or narration with emphasis

* * *

**_Stupidity combined with arrogance and a huge ego will get you a long way._ **

**_~Chris Lowe_ **

* * *

The seconds ticked by as Light slowly backed away from the small television, staring at the Death Note in absolute mortification.

He slowly approached the desk with caution and with a shaky hand, he turned off the still blaring TV. In a psychedelic trance, Light gingerly picked up the notebook and approached his bed, taking a seat on the cushiony apparatus. He could only stare at the name he had written in the book, the only semblance of writing inside the entire book.

He had just killed a man, out of simple human curiosity.

In a way, it disgusted him to his core. To do something so petty... it was unthinkable in his eyes. But in another way, he had also been correct for doing what he did. Under Utilitarian terms, he was a hero, he had saved the hostages lives by having to kill  _only_ _one_ person. However, under Deontologist terms, he was a monster, taking a life was an unacceptable way to solve the problem. He was utterly conflicted, unsure what to think of the events that had passed in the last ten minutes.

He wanted go believe that he was right, to  _know_  that he was right. The evidence was on the screen! He had saved lives, dozens and dozens of lives in exchange for the existence of one sleazy, greedy criminal. How wrong could it be to take someone like  _that_  off the face of the Earth? Especially since it allowed many others to continue to be honest, hardworking people.

Wait... what if it wasn't even  _his_  doing in the first place? It could have been an  _extremely odd coincidence._  The man might have had an already deteriorating health and it could have been the tension of the situation that finally set him over the edge. It would make a lot more sense that  _this_  situation happened instead of him using a magical death notebook to kill someone.

The latter seemed  _highly_  unlikely compared to the normal explanation.

Regardless, he felt the need to test the item again, to make  _sure_  that it wouldn't cause any harm. He couldn't kill someone innocent, that's for sure. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself for killing those who've done nothing.

Suddenly, he was jolted with a sudden noise from downstairs:

"Light, it's six-thirty and you have cram school tonight!" his mother screamed, making her presence known for the first time since he arrived home.

He blinked owlishly and looked at the analog clock on his bedside table. True to his mother's word, the clock read six-thirty. He hadn't realized that he was in his room for so long. He got up from the comfy bed and stuck his head outside of his room:

"I'll be down in a minute," he yelled down the stairs, quickly going back into his room to gather his supplies. Packing various books and sheets of paper into his messenger back, he finally finishes after a few short minutes. He hastily moves towards the door to exit. As his hand hovers above the doorknob, he looks back at the demonic notebook on his bead.

A thought arises.

This was his chance to find a situation to really 'test' the notebook out, to make sure that it wasn't just coincidence. Or maybe to make sure that it  _was_  coincidence. He wasn't quite sure which situation he wanted to be true, but he just  _had_  to test it out again. Just to make sure.

He quickly marches back to the cot and swipes the black notebook from the sheets, tucking it deeply into the bottom of his messenger bag. As he leaves the house, quickly saying a curt "Goodbye" to his Mother, he keeps his hand clutched onto the ebony leather-bound book.

Depending on the result of this experiment, the book would either burn or be kept for the sake of humanity that night.

* * *

Light's fingers silently danced along the desk, he was anxiously awaiting the end of class in order to start his  _experiment._

At first, he spent his time concentrating on the work assigned, doing meticulous work on each question. As usual, he finished far earlier than his peers and was left to wait for the end of the lesson. It was a long, painstaking twenty minutes.

Finally, he was dismissed from the stale classroom. As he walked out, he noticed one of his classmates bullying another for money. The thought of using the notebook flashed through his mind, but he immediately denied the idea. It would be foolish to kill someone for something so little.

Not to mention that it would attract unwanted attention towards his perfect student identity.

No, he needed a target that couldn't be connected to him, one that he could just stumble upon and kill without leaving any strings attached.

He needed to go out and  _look_  for criminals, regardless of how much of a bad idea that was in theory.

He passed through the front doors of the cram school after a few minutes of mindless walking. The person he saw being mugged for cash earlier was on the phone, angrily yelling at his mother. It was quite incredible how people could exchange positions on a whim. The victim becomes the aggressor, the cycle repeats.

He stood at a crossways, able to go either right or left. There was an equal chance of finding a criminal in either direction, so he shrugged and started to walk to the right of the cram school, the route he usually took to get home. A few steps in and suddenly, he was struck with an odd wave of emotion.

He abruptly had a feeling that he should go left, that he  _shouldn't_  walk home as he normally does. Now, of course, the first thing that came to mind was a reasonable question: why would he suddenly feel this urge? Perhaps it was because he knew the route home well and there was a good chance that he would subconsciously avoid criminals in alleyways and dark streets. Perhaps it was because he knew that he could encounter criminals in a place unknown to him.

Perhaps his sense of self-preservation was finally kicking in.

Regardless of the circumstance, he decided to trust his gut instinct. When has he  _ever_  been wrong?  _His_  instinct was trustworthy, dependable.

He pivoted on his right heel and began walking in the other direction, being vigilant for any crime afoot. His right hand slithered into the messenger bag, once again grasping the Death Note selfishly. He was ready to pull it out on a whim, the moment he found anything suspicious.

Now all he had to do was continue walking and wait for trouble to befall.

* * *

The streets were completely barren, devoid of any life whatsoever, Light being the only exception. He had been strolling around the city for about two hours now, his long disappearance most likely causing his mother alarm. He wasn't concerned about getting home quite yet, but vowed that he would return to his home in an hour, regardless of whether or not he had the results he was searching for.

Light sighed in annoyance as he turned another dark street corner, no sign of crime in the dimly lit road.

The longer he spent searching for a potential-felon, the more likely he was to be the victim of that potential-crime. By now, the only people awake were either people with night-shifts, low-life drunkards, and  _criminals_ , the fruit of his quest. Unfortunately, the only criminals that seemed to be out were either loiterers or jay-walkers.

Not much help to his cause.

He continued down the dismal road, keeping a keen eye out for any movement in the shadows. The buzzing of the florescent lights were beginning to get to him.

The occasional drip of liquid from the sewers below also caused him to cringe every thirty seconds or so. He was in a sensitive state of mind, ready to snap out the deadly book at the first thing that moved in his peripheral vision.

He moved closer to the left of the sidewalk, hugging closer to the buildings and intricate alleyways in between them, occasionally stopping in his tracks to survey his surroundings. He continued this mundane process for another ten minutes until suddenly, a hand appeared in front of his face as he walked in front of an entrance of a dark, well-hidden alley.

The hand suddenly grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him closer to the hand's owner, and a strange man latched his arm around Light's neck, putting him into a chokehold. With a surprisingly strong grip, the assailant started dragging him farther and farther into the winding passage of the alleyway. He fought against the person's grip, shoving his feet into the ground while trying to gain some semblance of traction on the pavement floor. His efforts were to no avail, the man's strength was nearly  _inhuman._

The movement began to slow down, the flickering of the street lights long gone, only to be replaced by the dim moonlight and the air filled with his own heavy, yet strangled, breathing and sputtering. The assailant was virtually silent, barely making any semblance of noise as the man silently progressed further into the seemingly endless hallway.

From the angle Light was being dragged at, he could make out a few details of the man's appearance, mainly the silver hair that was sticking out on the sides of the man's head and the hockey mask strapped tightly to his face. Two red orbs glared at him constantly, glowing mysteriously in the murkiness.

They continued on like this for a bit longer, seemingly an eternity for Light. The silver-haired man finally stopped in his strut and threw Light onto the ground of the alleyway, immediately putting a heavy foot on top of Light's spine to pin him down against the rough floor.

"Seems far enough from the main road," a gruff voice emerged from the mask, breaking the silence that he had created, "Nobody can hear a thing, boy. Make any trouble, and you'll be on the receiving sharp end of my favorite wrench."

The criminal got to work immediately, tentatively removing the messenger bag from Light's arms and ravaging through the container while keeping his foot firmly latched onto Light's poor back.

He was stuck,  _forced_ into this predicament. He could not run away, not with this man literally keeping a foot on top of him. He grimaced as his mind filled with poisonous thoughts. It was  _partly_  his fault for landing in this situation, his curiosity leading him to such an unexpected downfall. In another lens however, he was not at fault; he was only the victim of a  _very_  rare incident. It was only circumstance, he was more likely to find a burglar in the act than be dragged off into an alleyway by a deranged old man.

Still, he was  _looking_  for trouble. It stunned him how he could have been  _wrong,_ how his plan of finding another test subject for the Death Note could have backfired so strongly.

Suddenly his mind went blank, finally realizing his fatal error.

He had left the notebook that could  _kill anyone with a name and face_  inside his bag. His face was clear as day to the masked man, and he had left his ID inside the bag with the Death Note.

He was going to  _die._

He continued to lay down with bated breath, silently hoping that the masked man would overlook his Student ID and he would be spared from a heart-attack. It was pointless, he knew that, but he did not want to die without a shred of his dignity left. He didn't want to accept this fate so easily.

"Huh," the masked man finally spoke after a minute of tense silence, "Now what do we have here..."

Light clenched his eyes shut, preparing for the worst. His body tensed, prepared for the pain to come. The man began pulling something out of Light's bag, the world moved slowly in those few moments.

"Interesting," the voice spoke. Light braced himself.

This was the end.


	4. Evolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, my schedule is always boned and you can expect it to be like this basically all the time.
> 
> Here's my gift to my readers after almost an entire YEAR of not updating this. Enjoy the long-ass chapter.
> 
> If you want to know when I will update, check my Tumblr (on my profile).
> 
> This is also cross-posted on Fanfiction dot net, but nowhere else.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

_Words_  = Normal dialogue or narration with emphasis

" _Words"_  = Inner Dialogue (This is exclusively for scenes that take place in the real world only, and this only applies to Light and [Character to be revealed this chapter])

・・・・

_**We are a party of innovation. We do not reject our traditions, but we are willing to adapt to changing circumstances, when change we must. We are willing to suffer the discomfort of change in order to achieve a better future.** _

_**~Barbara Jordan** _

・・・・

A moment of silence passed, and Light braced for everything to wash over in a gruesome, bloody forty seconds.

The man flipped through the pages, pricking them against each other in a rather loud display of observation. The covers slammed shut, much to Light's surprise.

"Well," the man jeered nonchalantly, pressing his foot deeper into Light's back while eliciting a groan from the teenager. Light barely noticed the man sliding the notebook into his pocket through the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes in response to the seething pain, "There's another toy for my collection. Never enough, you know?"

The masked stranger lifted his foot ever so slightly, almost as if he were giving Light a chance to speak. Light, out of his own judgment, remained silent; he feared what his words would stoke in the psychopath who held him hostage.

A loud crack resounded in the alleyway, and Light's back nearly snapped at the newfound force that the man was putting on his back.

The hockey-masked man twisted his grimy foot between Light's vertebrae, threatening to split him apart with the very strike, "You're a bit quiet. Too quiet for my liking."

The man kneeled down beside Light, lifting up his head so that honey brown irises met crimson red ones through the mask's round eyeholes. Even without a clear view of his face, Light just  _knew_  that the man had a smirk on his face.

"Aren't you just  _something_?" the masked man shook Light's head around whilst chuckling, and he eventually began to cough on his own saliva, amidst even greater laughter, in a disgusting display of insanity. Light's head was pressed against the ground as the man leaned in close, "I won't break you  _yet_. No, I'll just have a snack before I leave to drop off the goods; you'll do just  _fine_."

The man stood up higher, sharply craning his head whilst the moonlight made his demonic eyes gleam with anger. Something dangerous danced in those black pits that sat still behind the red cores of his eyes.

The man's hand forced Light's head to the ground, effectively slamming his brain into his skull and causing severe disorientation.

"Just think about it this way, kid," the man grunted, thrusting his hand into Light's back and piercing into his unprotected organs and rupturing his rib cage while barely avoiding his spine. Light scarcely heard the man as he felt his insides being rummaged through, and the shock of the matter left him completely unresponsive. His world began to darken as the man continued to speak casually, "You'll probably be better off after this. Hell, maybe you'll even thank me afterward. Who  _wouldn't_  take the chance to become…"

Light's mind completely shut down in that second, and all of the world left his sights in a single, instantaneous moment.

・・・・

Light wondered if this was the afterlife:

A field of white roses, slowly dancing in a light wind that never seemed to cease.

A sun that gleamed in the sky, unendingly delivering its warmth to the flowers that begged for its joy.

A plethora of perfect, fluffy clouds that drifted lazily through the bluest sky.

He sat on a blindingly white bed with perfectly clean satin sheets, wearing nothing but a clean white shirt and pants that loosely blew with the wind. He had no idea of how long he had been here, and he wasn't even sure if any time had passed at all. The only things that he was sure of was that he was breathing, despite the fact that he should be dead, and that he felt a sickening pain in both his head and his gut.

The pain in his chest felt like knives stabbing into him; the pain would weave in and out, but it never faded. His head was the same story, but it was even more irritating with the pressure it put against his skull. Altogether, he felt as though he would burst at any second.

Despite this, he was determined to get up and investigate. While still sat up, Light twisted around, feeling the sharp pang of pain in his lower body, and let his legs hang over the side of the bed. He flexed them around and was quietly delighted to see them respond quite well despite the pain in his back.

Sucking in a deep breath and bracing himself for the next painful step, Light hoisted himself off of the mattress and landed on his feet. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't as bad as turning, but it was still another blow to his senses.

The pain ebbed away as he stood still, silently observing the restless flowers swaying around him. His spine stiffened as he tried to take a step, and he audibly gasped when his foot hesitantly hovered forward. When it landed, he let out a grunt and his hands darted to his back.

Without a doubt, the source of his pain was most definitely coming from his back, and scarily close to the spine. His hands smoothed his back, and he shuddered when his fingers ran over a thin line that ran across the left side of his shoulder to the middle of his spine.

He pressed in a bit, and his arm flinched forward when the pain hit him. His head throbbed as he doubled over in agony. He sat there unflinchingly for a few moments until he mustered enough gall to try to stand up again.

His knees trembled as he pushed his body off the ground with his hands, and his feet felt the slight tickle of the roses, somehow completely free of their thorns. He groaned as his back ached, but he continued to push forward despite the excruciating pain.

"Hey, just  _stop_ ," a voice murmured from close by, "It's getting annoying."

Light's head whipped around out of instinct, but he immediately regretted the action when his head pounded with another pang of seething pain.

"See," the voice grumbled again, showing a youthful edge to their tone. Light glanced through clenched eyes to find a small child with unnaturally blue-purplish hair in front of him, sitting in a small patch of purple flowers that had seemingly apparated out of nowhere; the boy couldn't have been older than ten years old, but his blue-indigo eyes had an experienced steel to them. The boy continued to scold him, keeping his eyes away from Light's and pointed at the ground, "You're hurting yourself, stupid."

The kid lifted himself from his seat and brushed off his pants, which were already filthy despite their originally white color, and approached Light with a lazy gait. Light noted that the purple flowers, which smelled oddly of herbs, followed the boy wherever he stood. The result was a trail of purple, almost violet, flowers leading to Light. The kid let himself slump onto the ground, crushing the flowers below him without much care, and tugged on Light's pant leg.

Frustrated and unable to do much more, Light conformed without much of a fight. He bent his knees slowly, wary of the newfound injury on his back, and sat himself down without too much overbearing pain. Blinking out the fogginess in his eyes, Light looked down at the child with a nonchalant expression.

"Kirishima Ayato, and don't bother calling me by my last name," the newfound Ayato said with a bit of spite to him. The kid didn't bother extending a hand nor bowing, opting to ball his hands into fists in his lap instead.

"Yagami Light, and it's nice to meet you, Ayato," Light said in his normal fashion. He wondered if he was going to have to make up an act for the child, but he really didn't want to bother with that given the situation.

"Of course," Ayato grumbled, snorting in irritation, "I'm stuck with a headass in heaven. Or hell. Whatever the fuck this is."

A moment of awkward silence passed between the two, and Light finally spoke up, "I don't think either of us is dead. I have stitches on my back, so someone must have found my body. But, what about you?"

"No," Ayato immediately shrugged off the notion, "I'm sure that I couldn't have lived through what happened to me. This is probably the place between the afterlife and life or some shit like that. I'm dead, you're  _almost dead_. That would explain why it's only me and you; not many of us die, or come close to it, at the same time anyways."

"Wait," Light caught him before the topic could come to rest, "What do you mean by 'us'? Is there something I'm missing here?"

"What?" Ayato deadpanned, looking at him incredulously. The boy's eyes darted to Light's right, as if scrutinizing him, and back to make eye contact, "You can't be shitting me right now. Your eye? Even if you're one-eyed you're still one of us."

Light said absolutely nothing in response, and his lack of anything was enough to set Ayato off.

"Goddamn!" Ayato spat out at him, pinching the bridge of his nose with a small hand, "Maybe your head was fucked with or something. You have a headache or something?"

"Yes, but I remember my head being bashed into the ground by this masked man," Ayato blanched, and Light continued, "He was wearing a mask, I believe it was a hockey mask, and his eyes were demonic, to say the least. He had white hair too. Does that sound familiar?"

"There's no way you're  _that_  dense," Ayato murmured through the fingers that covered his face. He lifted his head up and stared Light straight in the eyes, "That was  _Jason_. You know, the S-rated ghoul that's in charge of Aogiri? The most  _infamous_  executive of the whole damn group!?"

"Ghoul?" Light asked dryly, feeling a bit of prickling in his right eye.

" _You_ , you dumbass!" Ayato finally shouted, waving his arms in the air. He pointed dramatically at Light and hissed, "You're a ghoul. Even with your  _fucked_ eye, you're still a ghoul! You can't be telling me that you forgot what you  _are_."

"Ayato," Light breathed a deep breath and noticed the way Ayato was glaring daggers at him. He unconsciously rubbed the wound on his back and continued speaking in a calm, in-control tone, "I am not lying to you when I say that I am  _not_  a ghoul and I have absolutely no idea  _what_  a ghoul is. I have no idea what is wrong with my eye, and I'm not even sure why we're here. Just explain from your end, and start with the subject of ghouls."

"Ugh," Ayato groaned under his breath, "You're using Uncle Renji's 'I'm not upset, just disappointed' voice. Fine, I'll start with ghouls."

Ayato made a point to look at Light with his unique indigo eyes. The boy covered them with his right palm and waited a second. The moment the boy pulled his hand away, those same demonic eyes that put Light in this purgatory met his once more.

Light, with a shriek, attempted to stumble back out of fear, but his back left him blind with pain. He covered his face with his hands and laid down on his side, waiting for the pangs of pain to ebb away. He reluctantly shrank into himself, letting his arms drop down to his sides.

Ayato scooted into his field of vision, dragging his purple flowers with him into the sea of white roses. The boy looked almost disappointed, still wearing those red pupils that danced in a sea of darkness.

"You're like a human," Ayato grumbled, crouching with his hands on his knees while facing Light, "I'm a ghoul, and you're one too, ignoring the fact that you have no memory of it. One of your eyes is like mine, and you smell like one too."

"That's impossible," Light flustered a bit, trying to rationalize the child's words, "I  _know_  that I'm human and not–not a ghoul. I don't have those eyes, and you haven't even explained  _what_  a ghoul is yet. And smell?"

"I'm gonna have to really explain this to you?" Ayato decried, running a hand through his scalp. Ayato pointed to himself, "Ghoul." Ayato pointed at Light, "Ghoul." Ayato pointed to himself again, gesturing towards his eyes and then the area between his shoulders, slightly towards the left, "Kakugan and kakuhou."

Ayato hissed a bit and Light flinched again as something large emerged from the boy's shoulders. They took on a sharp, rigid form as Ayato forced them out, and the crystal-like object began to shape themselves into a silhouette of wings, still attached to the young child's back. Light, despite his impasse expression, was undergoing a mental breakdown. His fingers rubbed his brow in frustration.

"Kagune," Ayato deadpanned, gesturing behind him. Light took a sharp breath and waited for Ayato to continue despite the many questions he had. Ayato, with reluctance, continued speaking when Light's face still showed confusion, "You  _know_  this, come on! The apex predator? King of the food chain? I heard the CCG even calls us 'wolves in sheep's clothing', whatever the fuck that means. Wolves are cool."

Light pondered the last statement, mostly focusing on the 'wolves in sheep's clothing' analogy. Did that mean ghouls were only human-like on the outside? Ayato had mentioned a few words that were more or less foreign to Light.

"So," Light started slowly, tapping his chin, "Ghouls are  _not_  human?"

"Yes, yes. Yeah," Ayato rushed, trying to jam the so-called kagune back into his back, "We're a different spec-eyes. Ghouls can only eat people, humans  _don't_  eat people."

"Species," Light offhandedly corrected, dwelling on the fact that ghouls are not only predators, but they're predators specifically to humans. His face blanched at the implication that he was a ghoul. He  _knew_  he was human, and it should be impossible for him to suddenly turn into a ghoul.

Ayato grunted at the correction but otherwise stayed relatively calm for a kid. Light held his face in his palms, now sitting up, considering his options. Should he ask about himself being a ghoul? The kid said there was proof of it, but Light wasn't willing to bet that anything in this place was physically real.

If that were true, then he could completely ignore the  _thing_  that blasted out of Ayato's shoulders.

"I understand what you say you are, but I don't support your… eating habits," Light started, eliciting a scowl from Ayato, "I just don't get why you think  _I'm_  a ghoul. And you didn't answer about the 'smelling' question."

"One," Ayato raised a finger, "I  _know_  you're a ghoul because you have a kakugan like me, just in one of your eyes." Before Light could interrupt, Ayato raised a second finger, "Two: ghouls have better senses than humans, so I know what you are just by being around you." Ayato slid a finger over his lip and looked down in concern, "This is like explaining the internet to Uncle Renji. Are you sure you remember being human?"

"Ayato, I can't take you seriously about that. How do I know that you're not lying about my eye? What if this place isn't even real and I'm just hallucinating? Ghouls  _don't_  exist; I've never heard of anything like this," Light said exasperatedly, trying to reason with the child, "I  _know_  I'm human; I remember being human and I've never been anything else. You have my word on that."

"You're delusional," Ayato fumed, "You said you saw Jason, right? If you saw him, then that should be proof enough that ghouls exist. And you think you can just imagine me up, idiot!? I'm a person too, and for whatever reasons we're stuck here.  _Together_."

"Look, kid," Light started before feeling a pang of drowsiness hit him completely off guard. It was so disorienting that he lost his train of thought completely, almost slumping over in the exhaustion that had slammed into him like a truck.

Ayato's angered expression quickly melted away, shifting into alarm almost instantaneously. He opened his mouth to speak before he slumped over in a sudden motion. The wind stopped blowing against Light's skin, and the flowers ceased in their dancing.

Light blacked out before he could even register Ayato's motionless form.

・・・・

"Wait, maybe that shock was a bit too strong. It startled him awake," a voice echoed in Light's ears, surprisingly louder than he was used to. He tried to lift himself up, but the pain from his back was amplified from when he was asleep, so he was left essentially paralyzed wherever he was.

"Shh," another voice jumped in, sounding a great deal concerned, "Don't startle him. The last thing we need is for him to start bleeding like that again. Just leave the room; the wound's clean now. Not a word"

"Right, boss," the first voice complied as heavy footsteps faded away and a nearby door clicked shut.

The screech of metal assaulted Light's ears, getting closer to him with each drawled out second. Finally, the screeching stopped and a face popped into his vision. An elder man, seemingly in his forties or fifties, with overhanging ashen hair, fair brown eyes, and an ordinary amount of wrinkles in the forehead.

"Ah, Yagami, are you okay? Is it alright if we drop the formalities?" the man queried, fiddling around with the bed to elevate Light ever so slightly. The man found the perfect spot between upright and laid down just to prevent more pain to Light's newfound injury. The man continued despite not receiving an answer to the question, "For the time being, I am your Doctor: Doctor Kanou. Don't feel the need to bow, shake hands, or even move. Half of your ribs were shattered from behind, and we had to replace a few organs with the damage that was done. Though, you're lucky that your spine wasn't touched; that would have put you in a bed like this for life."

Light blanched and a bit of pain cascaded through his head. There must have been visible anguish on his face because Doctor Kanou took it upon himself to speak up again.

"Not to mention, you seemed to have suffered a severe concussion, so we also took it upon ourselves to  _ensure_  you were not permanently damaged from whatever caused it," Kanou pulled a clipboard off of the side of Light's hospital bed, quickly checking on the many monitors that were hooked up to Light's side. He pulled a few black sheets of paper with noticeable x-rays printed on them and pointed them at Light, tracing a pencil over the skull area. "There was a fracture right here," Kanou circled the front of the skull which showed a visible, yet almost undetectable, jagged line in it, "The frontal lobe was barely touched, though you may have experienced some minor trauma in that region. I wouldn't be surprised if you have, say, minor headaches, some mood swings, maybe even the occasional random sound in your head for the next few months. Now that the basics are covered, do you have  _any_  questions?"

"Have you contacted my family?" Light asked, the dryness in his throat catching him by surprise. For his own self-worth, Light sincerely hoped that his father wasn't preoccupied with this. The man was already stressed to the bone, and he couldn't imagine the mental and physical wear it would put on him.

"Yes,  _both_  of your guardians have been informed of your condition. Though, for your health, I advised them to give you at least a week of recovery without major distractions," Kanou, with a deceptive smirk, continued, "Of course, we cannot have one of our patients exerting himself socially when he is recovering from an organ transplant. Especially with the lungs; being out of breath would not aid your recovery. Anything else?"

Kanou, despite his overbearingly kind disposition, was obviously delighted. What of, Light was unsure, but he was increasingly uncomfortable around the man. The mix of chemicals in the air, their pungent smell, the artificial lighting, and the white-tiled room did not sit well with Light, and something else in his mind agreed with the discomfort.

"I have more questions," Light said slowly, "But I think I want to be alone for a while."

"Of course," Kanou shot back, continuously wearing his smile without missing a beat, "Just buzz me in if you need assistance or you're  _hungry_. Try not to rest though, you were nearly on the verge of flatlining earlier. I would suggest flexing your arms and legs a little to get the blood pumping at a healthy level."

"Okay," Light replied, eager to have the room to himself.

The man walked out of his field of vision and the door squealed open before clicking shut. Light let his hands rise to his face, cradling his cheeks as he let all the information sink in. With a resigned sigh, Light held his hands to his chest and wriggled them around half-heartedly and rested back onto the artificially white hospital bed.

That is until a voice spoke up.

" _H–Hello?"_  the voice questioned hesitantly, sounding much like the boy Light had encountered in his dream-like state,  _"Can you hear me?"_

"Ayato?" Light asked compulsively before realizing that he had absolutely no clue where the voice had originated from. He was in a room with another empty bed, but he still craned his head to look for the child in question.

" _I–I don't think… I'm not… ugh,"_ Ayato scrambled for words, and Light was left at a loss. There were no visible tics, but Light could tell that the boy was thinking, wherever he was. Something akin to a sigh sounded and Ayato spoke again,  _"Okay, just do me a favor. Blink and then flex your fingers, but do it in front of your eyes."_

Light blinked, wondering where this would lead the conversation. He then proceeded to outstretch his arm and flex his fingers around loosely.

" _Holy shit,"_ Ayato hissed and something akin to a sob or a cough hit Light by surprise. Ayato sniffed, seemingly pulling himself together, and said in a shaky voice,  _"Doesn't matter anymore. We're one person now."_  Ayato made a noise that sounded much like clearing one's throat, and Light let it click that the voice was indeed coming from his head and nowhere else.

A sharp breath passed, and Light barely took the time to register the headache that was growing in the back of his head. A new thought came along, and he wondered if he could talk to Ayato without sounding like he belonged in a mental hospital. Could he direct thoughts? Was there a boundary between thinking about things and  _speaking_   _inside_  your mind?

With a bit of an experimental attitude, Light tentatively thought about speaking to Ayato, and something fit like puzzle pieces in his mind.

" _That was easier than I thought it would be,"_ Light observed, still somewhat shocked by the revelation that there was  _someone living in his head_. He directed his thoughts again, finding it to be an almost instantaneous connection,  _"Can you hear this?"_

" _Mhmm,"_  Ayato hummed, observably quieter than he had been the first time Light had met him. Ayato, out of his own necessity, continued to speak in a more hushed tone,  _"I can see, hear, smell, and feel everything you do too. It's like being in a cage, but it moves."_

Light subconsciously shivered at the notion of his body being a cage, but he furrowed his brow in concentration as well. For better or worse, he and Ayato were stuck together. To what extent, Light didn't know, but he was determined to find out. Light mentally reviewed the conversation they had had earlier, and a few key points stuck out like a sore thumb: the existence of ghouls, him  _being_  a ghoul despite his own objections, and that Ayato himself was a ghoul. There was the added fact that he was attacked by a ghoul, and conclusively Light had to assume that he was, for his current state's sake, in a world inhabited by man-eating monsters in human skin.

Great, he summarized.

" _Ayato, is there any way that we can disprove that I'm a ghoul?"_ Light questioned, eager to strike out the most important topic that had been brought out earlier.

" _I guess I can't know since I'm not looking at you,"_ Ayato went quiet for a bit, and Light let himself close his eyes in deep thought. The pain was nearly gone despite the fact that his body had been repaired recently, and that suddenly alarmed him. Ayato spoke again,  _"If you can eat human food, then you're not a ghoul. That's the only way to prove it."_

Light, without batting an eye, pressed the button on the side of the bed with a resigned sigh. The button buzzed for a few seconds, and footsteps approached from outside the hospital room door. Even Light was left at an odds at how he was able to hear them, but he chose to focus on getting through his task for his own sanity.

A knock sounded, and then the door opened without much hesitation.

"Hello again," Kanou walked in with a lopsided smirk and faced Light. The man's face brightened considerably before quickly checking the monitor and taking a seat beside Light once more. He spoke, "May I ask why I was buzzed in?"

"Yes," Light started with a tired edge to his voice. He went on with much care for the personal image he wanted to maintain, "I've realized I haven't eaten since the morning I was checked in, so I should probably eat something. I hope it isn't an inconvenience, that is."

" _Kiss ass,"_  Ayato grumbled in the back of his mind. Light paid no attention to this. He simply knew better.

"It's perfectly fine, Yagami," Kanou waved whatever doubts Light had off and got up abruptly, "Since we had to repair part of your stomach, I'd prefer that I observe and check for any abnormalities. I trust that won't be a problem, correct?"

Kanou shot his words back with the same level of overly sweet kindness, and it felt like complete crap to Light. Here they were: two people who wore masks to please the other despite neither caring about the other's impression. What an irony.

"Of course not," Light replied, a bit of dry humor still tasted on the back of his tongue. He felt the top of his palate with his tongue and swallowed what little saliva he had in his mouth.

"Alright, I'll be right back then."

The door screeched again, and Light was left with nothing but the sound of incandescent lights buzzing constantly. Ayato took this gap to speak again.

" _Why do you do that?"_  he whined, and Light could almost imagine the facial expression Ayato would have worn: hunched in on himself while wearing a scowl.

" _Do what?"_  Light responded without missing a beat, but he knew that the charade could only go on for so long with someone else glued to him 24/7.

No, Ayato would be onto him after watching him for a day, or a few weeks if he was really dense. Not that Light cared:

It was all boring anyway. Maybe this is a change he needed…

Some excitement, any. Not welcome, but not completely unwelcome.

Yes, that was it. Just barely contained chaos in his life, all there for him to fix.

Another thought bubbled up, and it was something that he had almost forgotten about on that night. The reason he went searching for someone. Before he could fully consider that, Ayato interrupted his thoughts.

" _You know!"_ Ayato screeched, demonstrating a temper that was exceedingly shorter than Light's own. That was okay, Light thought, because he was thick-skinned anyway. Calm and collected, he reassured himself without much effort. Ayato continued his rant without any hesitation,  _"You're like a robot! Fuckin' kissing ass here and there while being completely weird. You did it to me and that Kanou shithead, so open–"_

"Yagami, I have an omelet on rice, is that okay?" a voice cut in. Soft, gentle breathing emanated from the door, and Light knew that Kanou was at the door despite the fact that he  _shouldn't_.

"– _up!"_  Ayato finished after the voice had spoken. Light craned his neck to the side and hushed Ayato down, despite the child's retorts. Kanou walked into Light's peripheral vision, and the man had a tray in his arms and was softly smiling that same damned smile.

Light, despite the angered screaming that was still reverberating through his aching head, nodded without so much as a word. He even mustered a dry smile, but he knew that his eyes were void of any joy.

"Alright," Kanou set the tray tentatively over Light's lap, quietly taking a seat next to the teenager and speaking with the same soft, controlled tone as before, "I'll just stay here to make sure you don't react violently to anything. Of course, you're safe if you happen to choke." Kanou nodded firmly and displayed the contents of the tray by lifting the lids off of one of the two bowls there, "This is a simple omelet on rice, I personally asked for foods that wouldn't be hard on the digestive system, and I have another dish that should be fine if this one isn't to your liking."

Light took a second to register the double meaning to the man's sentence, but he paid little heed to his words because the stench of the food was almost unbearable to be around. The eggs were somehow rotten and rancid despite their perfect appearance, and the rice was void of scent altogether. Even Ayato was suppressing gags in the back of his mind, and Light couldn't help but agree with the boy's sentiments.

Light was absolutely certain that he couldn't consume it, and he was concerned as to whether or not the Doctor himself was completely nose-blind, but he cautiously lifted the fork, hiding his disgusted expression behind a trained mask, and shoved a bite of omelet with a bit of rice into his mouth.

The gag was almost instantaneous, and Kanou suppressed a smile in the corner of Light's eyes.

It dawned upon Light that he  _couldn't_ , in fact, do this and that maybe the egg itself was rotten after all; it tasted like how raw sewage  _smelled_. Ayato griped about denial in the back of his head, but Light wasn't ready to resign his humanity quite yet.

Light waved for a napkin, and Kanou helpfully supplied a cheap, paper-thin napkin for Light to choke out the bits of food. His tongue wriggled around desperately to rub the taste off, but he knew that he would have to bear with it until the taste ebbed away.

"Are you sure that egg wasn't rotten?" Light asked cautiously, very much aware that the man had known something about this. Kanou continued to wear that little grin of his.

"Hmm," the man supplied ever so  _helpfully_ , even tapping his chin in mock suspicion. The man's face shifted as if he had undergone a revelation, and he spoke again, "Well, I'm sure the staff had tasted this before leaving, but the rice should be perfectly fine."

The ceramic dish scraped towards Light, and the teenager gave a skeptical look at the Doctor and then the plate in front of him. Light hesitantly snatched another forkful of food, exclusively rice this time, and directly placed it on his tongue to spite Ayato's claims.

Still, Light visibly gagged. The taste resembled the smell of burnt cigarettes, and he could closely link the texture to something like cardboard or even paper. Rice could  _not_  be botched; it was simply impossible to ruin something as simple to make as rice.

His confidence was dwindling, and there really wasn't much more he could say in his defense. Oddly enough, he was finding Ayato's hypothesis to be more and more likely by the second.

Right, he breathed. A little more chaos, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Yes, a perfectly acceptable chaos that he could manage and still convince the world that he was fine.

Yes.

Much to Light's utter chagrin, he used the same napkin to spit out the rice bits and sent a low, harsh glare towards the Doctor. The man continued to smile.

" _Let's assume,"_  Light started reluctantly while cleaning his mouth,  _"–that your theory is correct, Ayato. How did I get this way, then?"_

" _I honestly don't have an answer,"_  Ayato admitted begrudgingly. The boy hushed down completely in the face of a new plate being presented to Light and him.

The man lifted the lid, and a bloody mess laid before them.

" _That's human meat."_

Light breathed before refusing the plate completely, claiming he was not really that hungry anymore.

Kanou walked out the door silently, and Light was left to lament what fragments were left of his humanity.

He could never admit, to anyone, that the plate smelled  _good_.

・・・・

There sat a chair.

A lone chair which was placed in the center of a checkerboard floor. Worn straps were bolted to the chair's arms and legs, and they squealed with movement.

There was a body in the chair.

"Please…" the body spoke, devoid of life. The next sentence was expected, "Kill me."

A light was shined in blank eyes, and the body shrunk in on itself.

"It's your lucky day, then." a white-haired man spoke, putting down a pair of bolt-cutters and sweeping up a notebook. It was black with white English letters, and the man shivered with unspoken delight. He chuckled towards the body, "Name your choice."

The body stutters, and it shakes with some hope of vindication, some retribution for its suffering.

"I want to  _choke_ ," it speaks, hands clacking violently in their leatherbound prison.

A quick scribble passes in the room, and the white-haired figure unbuckles the body's hands.

They dart, effortlessly, to the body's throat. The body smiles as its own hands squeeze its neck shut to the point of asphyxiation.

The body becomes a corpse.

"How…" the white-haired figure fishes for words, not daring to mislabel such a gift, " _interesting_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have questions about characterization, don't worry.
> 
> Here's some context:
> 
> Light doesn't have the Death Note as Kira, so he isn't completely full of himself and he definitely does not have his God Complex yet. As far as we're concerned, he is the same Light as during the Yotsuba Arc.
> 
> Ayato is young, but he is still as coarse as his canonical character due to his life experiences. A ghoul has probably been exposed to worse at a young age, so cursing is honestly the least of his problems.
> 
> I tried to make Kanou and Yamori as psychotic as they are in canon, but it's hard to gauge how far they've gone since the timeline attributes to how desperate they are. I'm fairly sure Yamori was on spot for this chapter, but you tell me if you disagree. I think Kanou is about right for his age.
> 
> Please leave a review, I need criticism and feedback so I can improve on what I've written.


	5. Blank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here's my pound of flesh folks.
> 
> You all already know that this story is fucked up from the last few warnings, so I don't really need to update that "fucked up" list.
> 
> Enjoy.

  _Words_  = Normal dialogue or narration with emphasis

" _Words"_  = Inner Dialogue (This is exclusively for scenes that take place in the real world only, and this only applies to Light and Ayato)

・・・・

" _ **We can't help everyone, but everyone can help someone."**_

_**~Ronald Reagan** _

・・・・

Light was pleasantly surprised when no-one else came by to shove food at him for the rest of the day, but the lack of interaction also left something to be desired.

Stewing in his own insanity, his own vile thoughts, was not good for his health. Though, having a companion to bother him was, at the very least, a decent distraction from the insanity. Despite this, he was still sure that his physical appearance was taking a hit from his lack of care at the moment.

He really didn't want to bother anyway.

After the sun had stopped glaring through the curtains of his room, Light began to feel the tingling of his nerves, his brain jumping up and down for him to do something,  _anything_.

Yet, he waited. For something, anything, to break him out of his reverie.

Nothing happened, and Ayato remained deathly silent.

・・・・

As it turned out, both his father and mother had stopped by the hospital to visit, but the staff had refused them for unspecified reasons. That, in it of itself, was extremely suspicious, but Light didn't exactly dislike the lack of company.

He thought Ayato was asleep, if he could even achieve such a state – writing off his complete silence as slumber, that is. Having another living being in his mind was something unknown and wretchedly new to him. Light supposed that this was a learning process for the both of them, and he quietly tapped his fingers in thought.

It felt nearly taboo to have this much time to himself, but Light continued in a silent daze that stretched nearly until the lights went out at the hospital. Ayato had still not spoke a single word throughout the entire day, and Light began to wonder what had happened to him.

He began to wonder about the doctor who had spoken to him not a day ago as well. The slimy, deceptive man was nowhere to be found, and Light couldn't exactly leave his quarters and mosey around for the man. No, he wanted answers while simultaneously being chained to a room that held absolutely nothing. What a pity.

It was nearing midnight, and he exhaled deeply, staring into the analog clock bolted onto the wall, watching its red-hued numbers tick towards the final minutes of the day. His eyes peered around, desperately, looking for something to focus on. His brain lagged behind him, rolling forward at the pace of a snail. He blinked the fogginess out of his eyes and tapped his fingers methodically on the blanket, the sound completely muted by the thin cotton.

Finally, in a resigned huff, Light conceded to defeat and let himself lay back onto the hospital bed, stiffly laying against the too-thin pillow that held his head.

He slowly drifted from the conscious world as the buzzing of artificial lights hummed in his ears.

・・・・

"So, I thought about it…" Ayato started, out of the blue.

Light blinked. He was in the same field as before, surrounded by a plethora of white roses and a too-perfect sky. Ayato sat in his reserved patch of flowers; they smelled of rosemary now that Light wasn't as panicked as before. It quickly registered in his mind that this was a dream, possibly his subconscious mind.

He blinked again before focusing on Ayato, fully paying attention this time.

"And I think I'm.. dead," Ayato finished, trembling a bit with the final word. He rubbed at his eyes and grumbled a bit, "I'm already over it–" he clearly wasn't, but Light didn't make a comment "–and I think we're only here, together, because that dumbass doctor used m-my organs to fix you."

Light wasn't sure how that conclusion came along to Ayato, but it was the best lead he had so far. He could find physical proof of that later, but he decided to go along with it anyway.

"But–" Light started cautiously.

"But how, right?" Ayato ran his right hand through his scalp and began to absentmindedly pick the lavender-colored flowers at his knees. He shifted into a one-sided kneel and spoke as he jammed another flower from the ground, "How the  _fuck_  did my organs end up in you?"

Right, Ayato was as lost as he was in the situation. No use in avoiding beating around the bush, he summed.

"Well," Light started, rubbing his thumb on the hem of his sleeve, "Let's examine what happened step by step. What do you remember happening before, well, death?" It was blunt and maybe too much so for a child, but Light only cared for the facts at this point, sensitivity came last to solving a case.

"Not a lot," Ayato's thumb drifted to his face and he traced circles over his lips. "I don't even remember how it happened, I only remember… uh… hmm." Ayato paused, looking down rather abruptly and clamming up a bit with his arms and knees. Light realized that he had hit a rather sensitive spot.

"Go on," Light encouraged him, even falsifying a grin for Ayato. Much to Light's chagrin, Ayato closed up even more, arms bound tight around his chest.

"I don't need to talk about it, it's not important," Ayato blurted quickly, eyes darting away from Light's. He changed the topic, "We just know that I died and that we're some sort of weird, fucked up combo that shouldn't really exist. Perfect."

Ayato's words ended with an overly sarcastic bite to them. Light knew something was up about Ayato's death, but he would give the kid some space. It was a waiting game; eventually he would gain his trust and understand what happened.

"I'm  _not_  human anymore, Ayato," Light breathed harshly through his nose and felt some bitterness rise in his throat. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked pointedly at Ayato, "I can't eat normal food, so I have to be ghoul. That means that Doctor Kanou purposefully gave me, what you called, a kakuhou. He couldn't have  _accidentally_  transplanted an organ like that, Ayato. Think about this, he  _knew_  what he was doing!"

Ayato looked at him slantedly and rubbed his hands together slowly, almost as if he were reading Light like a book. Light knew otherwise, but he kept his pointed look on Ayato.

"So what do we do now?" Ayato barked, suddenly raising his tune an octave higher. He seethed, "We're stuck together now and I can't do  _shit_  about it." Ayato abruptly stood and clenched his fists together at his sides, "What do you want  _me_  to do about it, huh?! Want me to fucking reverse time? What am I supposed to do now that I'm glued to your side?"

Light looked cooly at Ayato as he vented out, spouting increasingly nonsensical things as his screaming began to become more and more raw. Eventually Ayato stopped, eyes pouring, and plopped himself onto the ground. He stared at the ground and the occasional sob choked itself out.

Fairly sure that Ayato's tantrum had subsided, Light slowly rose from his seat among the white flowers and approached Ayato, making cautiously calculated moves that wouldn't stoke his anger again. Finally approaching from the side, Light bent down a bit and rubbed Ayato on the shoulder silently.

"I don't expect you to have all the answers, Ayato," Light defused the situation, plastering another smile onto his face. He continued slowly, "I'm only asking so that I can understand what happened to  _us_  better. Trust me, I want to fix this as much as you do, but I can't do it without the right information." Light got up, and he peered into the cloudless sky. "I just want you to try and make it easy for the both of us; tell me how to be a ghoul, and I can figure this out with you."

"Why?" Ayato choked out. "Why should I help you?"

Light faltered a bit, trying to find something reasonable for Ayato to latch onto. The solution clicked quickly in his mind.

"I have a family back home, Ayato," Light looked back at Ayato, making eye contact with him immediately. "They're human, and I would lose them if I go out of control. I want them to be safe, and I want  _us_  to be safe. The last thing I want is to leave my family behind, Ayato." It was a half-lie, Light certainly did not want to die, but that consequently meant leaving his family behind. Half-truths, maybe.

Light's answer seemed sufficient enough for Ayato, as he began to pull himself together quite quickly. Light noted his speedy recovery, just in case it could be useful in the future.

"Alright, then," Ayato sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand against his nose rather aggressively. "I'll teach you what I know, but you're gonna have to promise to keep this stuff away from your family. One whiff of this and the CCG is gonna be on your ass."

"Ah, yes… I'll agree to that." Light paused for a second. That would be difficult to pull off, especially since he was injured, but he knew it meant death for the both of them if his secret got out. "Start from the beginning, including the 'CCG'."

"Ugh," Ayato grunted, crossing his arms, "All humans are clueless. Let's start." He positioned himself into a cross-legged pose and laced his fingers together loosely. "The CCG is basically a group of government-hired shitheads that hunt down ghouls for the sake of hunting us down. They think that we're heartless, uncontrollable monsters that need to be killed, so they're always looking for ghouls."

"Well, they wouldn't have reason to think that without proof, right?" Light theorized, taking a seat beside Ayato. "That must mean that there are  _some_  ghouls who are, in your words, 'heartless, uncontrollable monsters'."

"Hmm… well, yeah," Ayato muttered beneath the fist he had placed on his lips. "Kind of, at least. Sometimes ghouls go out of their way to kill and eat people for fun, but that's not most ghouls. A good amount of ghouls only get like that when they haven't eaten in  _months_."

"Ah, I'm generalizing, aren't I?" Light asked lightly. Ayato looked a bit puzzled, so Light simplified, "I mean, I was making a huge assumption about ghouls back there."

"Yeah, you  _were_ ," Ayato hissed. He dragged on anyway, "The CCG's deal is simple enough: stay away and you won't be killed. Any questions?" The final sentence was delivered with some bite.

"How do they kill?" Light was fully aware that ghouls were physiologically superior to humans, Ayato had mentioned it a few times before, but then how could humans manage to topple their predator? There wasn't a clear answer to Light, and Ayato knew more than him.

"Fair enough," Ayato shrugged. He pointed behind him, to his upper back, and spoke, "A while ago, I think maybe in the last fifty or something years, some fuck-o decided to pick up some dead ghoul's kakuhou and make it into a weapon using electricity 'n shit. Then they made a lot of 'em. Only ghouls can  _really_  hurt other ghouls, so they decided to use our own parts against us."

That was… chilling, Light supposed. It wasn't enough to have them die naturally; humans had to exterminate them just in  _case_  all ghouls decided to become aggressive. The preliminary thought behind their ideas made him grow rather bitter.

"I think that matter is settled then," Light moved on, wanting to understand his new predicament fully. He went to the topic of combat immediately, "If I ever have to encounter the CCG, then how can I defend myself? Or how do I fight other aggressive ghouls in general?"

"That's easy," Ayato brightened a bit, and he flexed his fingers out from under his face. "Remember that 'thing' I showed you when we first met, from behind my back? That's a kagune, our only weapon. Mine– _Ours_  is suited towards really fast attacks 'n movement and then we run out of steam pretty fast, so we're more of a surprise-attacker if you get what I mean."

Light understood rather clearly and nodded in response. While Light greatly disliked the idea of being mainly an attacker, he knew that he was going to have to work with the cards he was dealt. Beside the fact that he had a short stamina, he could at least make a quick getaway in case of an emergency. Difficult, but potentially useful.

"Right, I think we can skip most of the other shit since it isn't really important right now," Ayato waved it off as he spoke. "What you really need to know is that you need to eat a whole human every month or you'll tear up the first fucking person next to you; that means  _game over_. If you really want to keep your family safe, make sure you're fed. There'll be a missing persons case within a week if you're not serious."

"So what do I do then?" Light was left at a loss; he wasn't supposed to reveal himself to people, he couldn't kill someone within his own volition, and he was a ticking time bomb to his family and himself. There was no positive side to this situation.

"You either kill or get killed, Light," Ayato shook his head dismally. "Unless you want to scavenge around for scraps of other ghoul's kills, and even then you're not gonna find much. Ghouls kill for themselves and themselves  _only_. They won't stretch their neck out for a stranger."

Light considered his options. While he didn't really want to hunt, he could at least try to minimize his casualties– it felt  _wrong_  to think that. If he was going to have to scavenge corpses, then let it be. Even grave robbing was a better option than having more blood on his hands.

"I'll scavenge if I have to Ayato, understand where I'm coming from," Light said softly. He blinked slowly and rested his hands on his knees, "I  _can't_  kill someone, it goes against everything I believe in. I don't care if I have to steal corpses, even that's better than hunting. If you're going to teach me how to use this  _kagune_ , then it'll be for defense and defense  _only_."

"Why are you so set on being human!?" Ayato grew frustrated in a snap, and Light was slightly alarmed at how emotional Ayato could become. "You're not one of them anymore, so don't try and act like one when it comes to survival. There's gonna be some day where you're gonna have to put down a human whether or not you want to, so  _give up_."

Light's eyes hardened to steel and his hands clenched as he dug his nails into the knees of his pants.

"I'm not going to be a killer, Ayato," Light retorted with frustration. He didn't want to kill anyone, no. He got himself into this situation by looking for death, so he would avoid it completely in the future; lesson completely learned. Something flashed in the back of his mind, but it was already gone by the time he registered it. His determination steeled as he spoke, "I refuse to take a single life if I can help it."

"Are you really gonna be like that?" Ayato spat out. He was scrunched over and digging a hole in the ground with a single finger. When Light failed to give a response, Ayato griped again, "Fine, then I won't tell you anything else. If you're  _so_  set on following your rules, then I won't help you at all; it's not my life."

"That's," Light said slowly, calculating his words carefully, "petty."

"Who gives a damn if it is, I'll let you suffer," Ayato shot back, pulling a flower from the ground are tossing it aside carelessly. "I won't tell you anything until you're  _begging_."

Light remained silent for a paltry moment. He didn't know how to do anything on his own, but Ayato wasn't going to be reliable anymore. He'd have to compromise, then.

"Fine," Light got up from beside Ayato and turned away, walking slowly, "If you're not going to help, then I'll figure this out on my  _own_."

Those dangerous words stirred in the air, but neither person spoke again.

・・・・

The week and a half went by relatively fast, and Ayato hadn't said a word since their argument. Light was sure he would come around eventually, but he also greatly disliked that Ayato was monitoring his every move. He despised being scrutinized like this.

Despite that, things had went surprisingly smooth. Kanou hadn't made another appearance since their first meeting, and Light suspected this was because he didn't want to answer any questions. All the nurses would give him half-hearted answers and refusals to his inquiries, so he had gained absolutely nothing from staying there.

Light had also noticed another key detail to his newfound ghoul-hood; his injury had completely healed within two days of the incident. Specifically, Light woke up the morning after their argument and all the stiffness and pain had suddenly disappeared overnight. He was exceedingly relieved that there were at least  _some_  perks to being a ghoul.

The hospital had finally deemed him ready to leave too, so he had been forced to get up and walk around for at least the last two days. His legs ached from slight atrophy, but it wasn't necessarily bad. Today marked the 12th day in the hospital, and they would dispatch him by the end of it.

His parents would pick him up at the entrance and this whole ordeal would be dealt with. He had other priorities to focus on now, though. The first issue was to get food by the next morning so that he wouldn't get unstable; however, he knew he would have to sacrifice sleep that night in order to scout.

Yet, there was some sort of excitement that bubbled inside of him; he'd never had such immunity before in his life. Before, he knew he could be killed on the streets by quite anyone. Now he had the insurance of relatively quick healing and a defense mechanism specifically designed to maim humans. While he had no idea how to use the latter, he was set on discovering everything this night.

The notion intrigued him more, and he was even more excited at the notion of doing something without having to wear his proverbial mask on. Yes, he knew he might have to make a makeshift mask to cover his face in case he was caught out, but he didn't have to  _act_  anymore. It was as though a weight were lifted off his chest, and he could finally breathe again.

There he stood, ready to embrace a completely new world; it was different, so  _un-human_ , but it was endearing at the same time. There was freedom where he had never seen it before, and it was something so  _new_.

Societal conventions be damned, Light was now deviant; he had another life that wasn't attached to his human one.

"Yagami Light?" A nurse peered in around the door frame, hands curled tentatively around the wood.

"Yes?" he asked from his bed, now fully facing the woman who had intruded.

"Your father is here to dismiss you."

This was it; his new life would start right here, right  _now_.

・・・・

Reunions were, at best, bittersweet. Upon meeting his father, Light was engulfed in a tight hug and was delivered few paltry words. His father could be obsessive, almost too obsessive at times. It didn't matter what his father could have done; it was in the past and Light simply accepted that.

Soichiro Yagami, however, did not. The man had clearly beaten himself up over it, as he had looked incredibly disheveled when Light was picked up, and Light's words couldn't soothe the man's demons. They ended up sitting in silence for the rest of the car ride.

Suddenly, his father spoke.

"Light," his father spoke whilst drumming his fingers against the wheel. He had the same tone that he used to deal with police matters, something Light has heard extensively over the years. He knew this was going to be serious. "You know we're going to do an investigation on this, right? It's okay if you're not up for it, but–" his father darted his eyes towards him quickly before focusing back on the road, "Can you give us a lead? Anything works."

Light turned his head away to face the window, glaring at the passing buildings. He considered his options. On one hand, he could easily give the police clues as to what happened, but the killer could never be caught due to the fact that he was a ghoul and he could be compromised entirely. On another hand, Light could completely drop the case and draw some suspicion to himself instead. Though, he could attribute it to the injury of the frontal lobe; a concussion worked as a perfect excuse.

"I don't," Light caught himself before he could say 'think'. That was too ambiguous, it left too much room for interpretation. He restarted, "I  _can't_  give you anything; I got a concussion. I don't remember much about what happened except for that I was  _stabbed_."

A decent lie, but not much was needed to completely throw his father off course.

"Very well," his father's fingers tightened around the wheel while his glasses glinted completely white, obscuring his eyes. He sighs, "If only I could have prevented this whole…  _ordeal_. I'm sorry, Light."

Light hesitated before responding.

"It's not your fault."

"I know, but I'm sorry."

Not another word was spoken.

・・・・

They arrived late in the afternoon. The house was emptier than usual, and Light's father cleared it up rather quickly. His mother was already asleep, likely her nerves, and Sayu had been at a sleepover.

Soichiro offered Light food before going for a rest, but Light reassured him that he wasn't hungry. Light remembered what a plain egg did to him, so he was definitely not ready to try food that legitimately tasted good.

His father told him that has going to head out again for the police station, and the man left as quickly as he arrived. His father never stayed home often.

Light went straight to his room and noted the time: 7:00 PM. His father wouldn't be home until a few hours, and Light would have ample time to prepare for his outing.

First thing was first, he had to fashion a mask. He looked through his room, haphazardly tossing things onto his bed in lieu of a better place to put them. He sighed in frustration when he realized that he had nothing better than simple school supplies.

If he only had paper to work with, then he was going to have to be creative. He wasn't going to draw anything, that would waste time, but he needed to determine the best way to make eye-holes. Or if two eye-holes were even needed.

Whilst pacing around the room in thought, he finally saw his reflection in the TV screen on his desktop. His eyes widened considerably as he finally registered the one, unmistakably black and red eye in the reflection. His right hand drifted up to the right side of his face where the exceedingly noticeable pupil glowed a red hue in the black that surrounded it. His other eye was just as normal, and he immediately knew that he was going to have to make a single eye-hole.

Staring at his reflection, he pondered as to how it became this way. He hadn't been aggravated at the hospital, so none of the staff knew that he had a "kakugan". Perhaps it was his frustration now that caused this to happen.

He continued staring into the screen as he tried to calm himself down, he thought practically and started mentally planning out the mask and his outfit to leave in. Nothing that could be attached to him; he was  _safe_.

With that thought, the strange kakugan disappeared with a blink. He blinked again, and it didn't re-appear.

Well, that was sorted. He moved on quickly; there was much to do.

With only paper and various school equipment at his aide, Light decided to use simple writing paper and cut it into the shape of his face. He then, without much effort, hole-punched the sides of the mask to attach a rubber band he had split. He tied the ends into the sides of the mask and hole-punched the mask again to create a wider eye-hole.

The product looked rather scrappy, but it did the job just fine. He could see out of the eye-hole and his face was fully obscured, so the mask was functional enough.

He then started looking around his drawers for something inconspicuous that he didn't need to wear as a student or, well,  _himself_. He eventually stumbled upon a plain, fairly unnoticeable white sweatshirt and some black jeans. These were throwaway clothes for now; he would need to buy something more reasonable and unrestricting.

He folded them and hid the three items under his bed for when he would change at midnight. The clock read 8:00 PM now; a whole hour of prep. He'd stay up late tonight, so he shrugged his clothing off and settled in for the night.

He'd sleep for four hours and then he would leave at midnight.

・・・・

Light blinked at the light of his analog clock, ominously glowing in a way that lit the room red. It was midnight, and his father had already come home; he heard the somewhat loud slam of the door and heavy steps up the stairs. Of course, his father checked on him and quickly left.

That left him alone; both of his parents were definitely asleep.

He could definitely afford to leave now, but he would have to be silent.

He got up slowly, taking great care as to not make the floor creak loudly. Luckily enough, it didn't groan under his weight. It was fairly quiet outside, so it would have been especially harmful if he had made such a noise.

He crouched down and grabbed the clothing he had folded before; slipping the sweatshirt on over his pajama shirt, which was a T-shirt unlike normal, and changed into the darker jeans. He pulled the mask on and strapped the rubber bands around his head, wincing a bit when it squeezed against his head. There was nothing he could really do about it, so he grit his teeth and went onwards.

He slid the hood over his head and meticulously tucked his hair underneath the mask and the hood. He knew that there could be absolutely nothing tying his human identity to his ghoul one; even a DNA sample was enough to topple his ruse.

When he looked in the glass of his TV again, he saw a dimly lit figure with rather un-noticeable features. Only a single, brown-hued eye shown through the paper mask. It was perfect for its purpose.

He moved towards the sliding door to the balcony quickly. He had only a few hours to make his move if his father were to wake up at his normal time. He would need to find something decent to work with, a whole corpse would be the best possible outcome. A suicide victim would work perfectly, he theorized.

He had a semblance of his plan as he slipped out the crack of the sliding door. He left only a sliver open in order to return later on, and he faced the two-story jump in front of him. Ayato had said that ghouls were more resilient than humans, so a jump like this should be a piece of cake.

He bent his knees as he grabbed the railing to hoist himself to the other side of it. He turned to face the drop again, this time on the other side of the fence. After some hesitation and a healthy dose of fear, he leapt off the balcony with a stifled gasp.

Suddenly, he was free falling. Panic immediately seized him, but he couldn't let it overtake him. Rather than flailing about, he steadied himself in the air and pointed his feet towards the ground. His eyes clenched tight as the air hit them, and he was suddenly on the ground again.

His feet were planted on the floor, his entire upper body crouched downwards. He had made little noise due to the muted pavement, but the shock of the landing left his muscles feeling a little stiff. Despite that, he had made it in one piece.

Part of him cried in despair with the discovery of more proof that he was no longer human, but he shoved those thoughts aside.

He dashed into the nearest alleyway, letting the street signs guide him until he reached a spot his father had complained about quite a bit; it was an intersection where people often committed suicide. Bodies were so common there that reports came in often bi-weekly.

It was a rather secluded area, which heightened Light's hopes. He dashed out the alleyways into the main street, jay-crossing rather haphazardly. He reached the other side stealthily and immediately noted the smell of blood– the iron-like smell was incredibly distinct– and he looked around in hopes of spotting a body.

Unfortunately, there was none to be found. He sighed rather heavily.

"Ah, disappointed, are we?" a voice said clamorously from behind him. Light felt his right eye twitch, and he looked behind him abruptly. "This is a popular spot for ghouls, I've noticed. Easy bait."

" _B–be careful,"_ Ayato suddenly chimed in. Light was startled; this must have been serious for the boy to intervene whilst under a grudge.

The figure approached slowly, barely illuminated by the street light near the alley entrance. The man's white hair contrasted vividly against the darkened brick walls of the alley, and the man's suit suggested something sinister.

" _Shit, investigator!"_ Ayato exclaimed loudly in his head, and Light took a few steps back in caution.  _"This guy's CCG, RUN!"_

Light did  _not_  need to be told twice. He bolted the other way and barely picked up the man's words.

"Hmm, it's almost a shame you don't want to fight," the man taunted, voice still startlingly close. Light glanced behind him and saw that the man was in hot pursuit, a metal briefcase in tow. "I'd love to test my new toy out! "

" _Light, you need to use our kagune,"_ Ayato blurted speedily. He stammered,  _"Or at least get up; this guy can't follow you if you can get on top of the building! Just jump and use the window ledges to throw yourself further."_

Light had absolutely no clue as to how to use his kagune, so he had no choice but to take Ayato's second piece of advice. He slowed down slightly, wincing a bit, and bent his knees to get some force going. He took a running start and jumped towards the side of the alleyway, his hands scrambling for something to hook onto. His fingers barely latched onto the edge of the apartment building's window ledge, and Light hoped he hadn't brought more attention to himself.

The CCG investigator came to a halt below him, and Light continued to dangle over the two stories he had jumped up. His other arm started to get a handle on the ledge, and he was sure he could make it to the roof in one piece if he had a few more seconds.

A gun cocked below him, and he broke into a sweat. Another glance showed him that the man's briefcase was gone, replaced with a strangely colored pistol aimed straight at him.

"Desperate now?" the investigator steadied the pistol in his hands and smiled manically. His expression resembled that of a rabid animal, "I love it when they run."

There was a loud, resounding click and signature boom, and Light flinched immediately. He was ready for the pain to explode in his back and for his body to crash into the ground, but surprisingly nothing happened.

He looked down again, now balanced on the window ledge. His hand grasped for the roof which was inches within his reach.

"A blank!?" the investigator nearly screamed. The man shook the pistol violently and his frenzied eyes darted between Light and the pistol. He reloaded it again, and Light took that as a sign that he should leave immediately.

He hoisted himself above the roof with relative ease as the sounds of clicking and gunfire rung out from the alley. They eventually stopped when Light went out of the man's sight, but the cursing remained. He stumbled backward, barely able to catch his breath.

He got up slowly, but he rushed himself forward to jump to the next roof. The jumps were erratic and he stumbled a bit upon the landings, but it got much easier as he continued hopping farther and farther away from they alley he had found himself in.

" _I think,"_ Ayato broke into his latest landing, tone pensive,  _"I think we're safe."_

" _Are you sure?"_ Light asked Ayato earnestly; the kid had better awareness than Light put together, so he could afford to be reliant on him.

" _Yeah,"_  Ayato said weakly. The kid sighed and his voice went low,  _"I'm sorry, I'm fucking stupid. I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have fucking ignored you like that, I should have_ _ **known**_ _it would lead to this."_

" _Ayato…"_  Light spoke tenderly. While Light did assign  _partial_  blame to Ayato, it was his own fault that he decided to come to that spot. It was a recipe for disaster since it had been infamous for suicide; a CCG officer would be hounding those types of areas. Light took full responsibility for this, and he knew that he couldn't go to these types of spots in the future. If he was going to scavenge then he was going to have to get creative.

" _I can't let you do this,"_ Ayato finally burst out.  _"We're gonna die if you go on like this. I'll lead you to a place where we can get help."_

Help sounded good; great, actually. Light nodded in response and listened for directions.

・・・・

The building they had stumbled upon was rather modern; Light was fairly sure he had followed Ayato's instructions to the dot, so this must have been the place.

" _Use the back door, the owner'll be upset if you don't_ ," Ayato startled him, but Light nodded curtly in response.

He walked to the side of the storefront of what seemed to be a café, which struck him as rather odd for a ghoul haven, and entered the side-alley to the left of the building. He crossed behind the building and found a solid metal door that read "EMPLOYEES ONLY".

" _Go ahead, knock,"_ Ayato ordered.  _"Yoshimura should be up at this time, the man never sleeps."_

Light did as he was told and knocked on the door rather softly. He waited a few moments for someone to show up, and he then banged on the door louder.

" _Oh, don't forget to take off your mask too,"_  Ayato informed him.  _"It's, like, kinda rude."_

At this point, Light could care less for politeness but he understood that he shouldn't be rude to someone who could help him. He slid his hood off and snapped the mask off his face, stuffing it rather abruptly into his sweatshirt.

The door suddenly creaked open, startling Light so much as to make him take a step backward, and a voice protruded from the door.

"Ayato, you've final–" the door fully opened, and Light was met with the face of an older man with greying hair and an apron. The man's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before returning into a carefully neutral expression.

The door opened wider.

"Ah, where are my manners," the older man gestured towards the building while bowing deeply.

"Welcome to Anteiku."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did a good. Please review, and I have a tumblr account for updates and extras. That also includes questions. It's [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/corgisaremysoul) if you're interested.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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